


Final Boarding Call

by orangeCrates



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Afterlife, Airports, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Not a Sad Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-28
Updated: 2015-01-28
Packaged: 2018-03-09 10:18:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3245981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangeCrates/pseuds/orangeCrates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Malik had any expectations about dying it would have been that it would be final and quiet.</p><p>In no way could he have expected to wake up in an airport, or that he would run into someone he'd sort-of-but-hadn't-really known.</p><p>(He hadn't expected for death to open the possibility for second chances at missed opportunities.)</p><p>Inspired by an OTP Prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Final Boarding Call

**Author's Note:**

> Don't ask me why I saw a prompt for two people meeting and falling in love in the afterlife and automatically thought, "Shenanigans and adventure! AND DINOSAURS."
> 
> More importantly: THIS WORK MAKES BRIEF REFERENCES TO RELIGIONS. None of which is meant to be derogatory, but I apologize if it offends anyone.

Of all the things Malik might have expected, if someone were to ask him what being dead would be like, it would not have been "an airport terminal".

And he would have been wrong, which should not come as a surprise given that, up until ten minutes ago, Malik had never been dead before.

He did not feel very dead, to be honest.

Which is not to say that he didn't remember _dying_ (oh, because he remembered those last moments only all too well), but he is breathing and when he pressed a hand against his chest upon waking up in a brightly lit airport his heart had been beating hard.

For a moment, he had wondered if dying hadn't been an awful dream until he realized two things.

One, he had absolutely no reason to be in an airport (there wasn't even an airport in the city he lived in).

Two, he had both arms even though it's been years since he'd lost his left arm in an accident.

He is embarrassed to admit that he'd spent a few moments just staring at his left hand as if he'd never seen it before. Then he'd pulled his sleeve up, half-expected there to be a scar of some sort, but the skin along his arm was smooth and unbroken.

Then his phone vibrated where he kept it in his blazer pocket. When he reaches in to take it out, he finds a slip of card-stock inside. It is blue and almost looks like a meal voucher you were given as compensation for serious delays. Except it clearly wasn't one. It has his name printed in serif font, his date of birth (and date of death) and there is an blank space beside the words 'final destination' as if waiting to be filled out. It also says in clear print: This voucher entitles you to ONE, one way flight with any airline within the Hereafter Interplanarity Airport! He turns it over, and printed on the back were the words, 'NO REFUNDS OR EXCHANGES' as well as 'CERTAIN TERMS AND CONDITIONS MAY APPLY. FOR FURTHER INFORMATION PLEASE CONTACT ONE OF THE AIRLINE PROVIDING TRAVEL TO YOUR DESTINATION'. He stares at it for a moment, then flips it back around as if he may be able to divine some sort of answer from it.

When he couldn't, Malik only pockets it again and takes out his phone. There is a new text message telling him he must activate his SIM card before he can use it. It claimed his cellphone serice will be provided by some cellphone carrier called ReaperTEL. (It also gave him a number to call if he wanted to keep his old number from before.)

He stared at it as well, before pocketing it without doing anything with it. After a moment of indecision, he stands up and leaves the uncomfortable airport chair behind. The airport is mostly empty and, at first glance, it appears like any other airport Malik has seen.

But there are small details that are strange.

For example, there is a display of clocks displaying different times. Except instead of familiar cities like 'London', 'Hong Kong' and 'Washington' the labels under the clocks read 'Asphodel Meadows', 'Fields of Yalu', "Jannah", "Huang Quan" and "Hell". A couple of the clocks did not move at all. He stops and picks out the names he can recognize, wonders about the ones he doesn't before he just shakes his head and stalks off.

He might have stopped a person to ask, but most of the people in the crowd seemed just as confused, a few were upset and, in the end, Malik finally found help in a stand full of brightly coloured pamphlets with such enticing titles such as "Asphodel Meadows: 3/5 stars, afterlife on a budget, just like retirement homes" and "Valhalla: the Feast You Deserve". Malik considered the display for a full minute before picking out two brochures, one titled "Atheism and the After Life" and the other "Hereafter and You: Your Life After Life."

"Those aren't very useful." A voice supplied from the side and, to his credit, Malik did not jump or startle, only turned to the man who had spoken with a frown. The man was tall and broad shouldered, with a visible scar bisecting his mouth and he looks familiar. Recognition follows after some thought. Malik used to see him everyday when he went to get coffee. He almost always arrived before Malik and more than once Malik had had to listen to the young lady working their mangle his name when his coffee was ready. If he remembered correctly, his name was...

"Altair." Like the star, he remembered. He also remembered the way Altair had frowned unhappily at the mispronunciation of his name and the shrug-and-grin Malik and he had shared when they caught each other's eye over it. 

He gives him the same grin now and pushes away from the wall to stand by him.

"I don't think I ever caught your last name."

"It's Ibn-La'Ahad."

Another thing Malik might have expected about being dead might have been a certain degree of solemnity and sombreness. He would not have expected to laugh. Because he can only imagine how badly the young lady's attempt to pronounce that would have gone.

He holds out his hand, "Malik Al-Sayf." Because it is only fair.

Altair shakes his hand. "I remember you. From the coffee shop. You were--" He lets go of Malik's hand as he trailed off, and he had that distinctly uncomfortable look that Malik both does and does not recognizes. People often shy away from the topic of his arm, pretending (rather badly) that there was no problem. There is a way they do not stare though, that makes it obvious that they would if they thought Malik wasn't looking.

It is similar to the way Altair looks now, but the uncomfortable look of embarrassment in front of him isn't quite the same and Malik doesn't know what to make of it. So he only tilts his head with a wry smirk.

"Missing this?" He sweeps his left arm out and watches Altair sputter.

"No!" Pause. "Well, _yes_ , but that's not what I meant." Malik was given enough time to wonder what he did mean, but not the time to answer, "I mean it. Those are useless. You're better off asking someone who's been here longer."

Malik could not remember how long it has been since the day Altair simply stopped showing up at the coffee shop. Perhaps this is where he'd been this entire time.

"I could always look for a help desk." He said because if the afterlife was an airport than it only made sense that there would be one.

"But I'm right here." Altair said matter-of-factly, "And the help desk is always crowded."

(On any given day, Malik learns later, there was always a crowd of people at the help desk, many of whom persisted in varying degrees of denial.)

For now he only frowns, "But can you tell me if my brother is here?" Because Kadar had been _right_ there and Malik had pushed him out of the way, but what if--

"Was he with you before" Altair's voice cuts off his train of thought, though it did little to help the mounting worry. Malik nods mechanically. "If you didn't see him when you arrived then he's probably still alive."

Malik's anxiety eases, but does not go away in its entirety. His friends (and his brother) have accused him of being a pessimist. Malik prefers to think that he is only realstic.

"And if he comes later?"

Altair starts with a promising, "Everyone comes here sooner or later." which does nothing but earn him a glare, so he starts again with, "we can wait at the gate where you showed up. If he's going to come soon he'll show up there."

~ + ~

Malik does not remember inviting Altair to wait with him, but he doesn't stop Altair from walking him back to where he'd first woken up. It isn't because Altair is surprisingly pleasant company or because he's a familiar (if not _that_ familiar) face in a strange, new world. It is only because he has no idea how long he might be waiting and Altair did promise to give him information. He's only allowing Altair to come with him because he needed something to distract him from thinking about all the awful ways he could have failed to protect his baby brother (always his baby brother even if he's already an adult, probably even when he becomes a senior citizen).

Along the way, Altair explains how this place works, the process through which his voucher could be exchanged for a boarding pass.

"People can really choose any destination they want?"

"They are free to choose."

Malik frowns into the coffee (which was completely mundane in every way except for the flavour which could only be described as subpar), Altair had bought for him earlier from a vendor whose face was shrouded in shadows. He wondered, briefly, if the poor state of the coffee was supposed to urge people towards making a decision instead of loitering around. He thinks back to the voucher.

"But certain terms and conditions may apply?"

Altair smirks, "Exactly."

"Hm." Malik does not ask why Altair is still here after so long and hasn't moved on. It is not his business no matter that he is curious.

~ + ~

The sky outside the floor-to-ceiling windows was a bright, bright blue still by the time his watch tells him five hours have passed. They moved on from conversations about the process by which people leave this place to the other possibilities the Hereafter has to offer.

"There are buses. They'll take you anywhere in the Hereafter, just not to any of the final destinations. While you are waiting for your brother," Because it is clear by now that Kadar has probably survived (and will hopefully not come any time soon), "We could go together." The last part comes out of Altair's mouth in a rush as if he were afraid he'd lose his nerve, but he does not look away from Malik once they are said.

Malik leans away with a shake of his head. It wasn't that Altair's offer wasn't tempting, but...

"If Kadar comes and I'm not here--"

"Once you've activated your phone, they can call you when someone arrives. You can request that as a service here." There's a grin on his face when he reaches out to cover one of Malik's hands with his own, "There are dinosaurs, Malik. I have seen them. There is also better coffee."

He adds with a grin on his face that was probably meant to be charming as if that will sweeten the deal enough for Malik to accept. But Malik is staring at his hand, not his face and it is that note of something so incredibly earnest in Altair's voice that makes him consider the offer.

"Why me?" The question seemed important, somehow, "I've been assured that I am an awful companion for vacations."

Altair looks down at the question, though he doesn't let go of Malik's hand. He is silent for what seemed like the longest time and though their time is now infinite, Malik still find himself impatient for an answer. He is close to asking again when Altair looks back up.

"I did not die regretting many things." He begins, not in a rush like before, but seeming to drop each word after careful consideration, "but I regretted that I was too much of a coward to ask you for a date."

From anyone else, it would have been ridiculous and overly-cheesy. But Altair looks straight at him and doesn't even look embarrassed by what he'd just said.

It made Malik flush, but he doesn't stutter when he points out, "You're not asking for a date. You're asking me to go on a road-trip with you."

"Would you say yes if it were a date?" There is a smirk tugging at the corner of Altair's lips, as if he saw through Malik's charade of nonchalance.

It was attractive, but also incredibly irritating. Malik pulls his hand back, watches the smirk fall from Altair's expression before he stands up.

"You said there was better coffee." And it is Malik's turn to smirk as it dawns on Altair where this was going, "If you weren't lying about that we can talk about what happens next over coffee."

He pulls out his cellphone intending to get it set up. The coffee date with Altair was far from the first thing he needed to take care of, after all.

Then again, the thing they had a lot of here was probably time, wasn't it?

~ + ~

In fact, it is still light out when everything's been taken care of and they are standing outside as a bus with "Hereafter Metro Express" printed in slanted, stylized letters (meant to invoke in the viewer an impression of _speed_ ) on the outside pulls to a stop in front of them. It isn't that they had a lot of time, Malik is beginning to realize, but rather that time means nothing in this place.

Altair hands Malik a ticket, one of two he'd procured for them while Malik had been busy filling out forms so he'd be contacted when Kadar arrives. 

Then Altair boards the bus and Malik follows after. 

At this point, he is unsurprised by how very _normal_ the bus's interior looks. 

It could have been any other bus, in any city, except that the bus driver, like all the others working at the airport, was nothing more than a vaguely human-shaped shadow (with a snazzy hat with the HME logo printed on it). He takes the ticket from Altair and, with a nod, feeds it into a machine that goes _ping_. Altair does not spare him a second glance, but Malik pauses for a fraction of a second before following suit.

_Ping._

The seats are forward facing, set together in pairs on either side of the bus. There are no other passengers apart from them. They could have taken any seat at all, but end up sitting together anyway, with Malik taking up the window seat.

The bus does not immediately start and Malik thinks that maybe the waiting should have been awkward. But there is a sort of anticipation of the journey that fills the lull before it begins. It wasn't that Malik had planned to never go on vacation, but it had always seemed unimportant, something to be pushed off until another day as Malik saved up money for future security. There would be time for it later.

And now there was no later. There is only now (and forever).

Altair leans over the armrest between them and, catching the motion out of the corner of his eyes, Malik turns to meet his gaze.

"Nervous?"

He should be. Malik is, essentially, embarking on a road-trip with no projected end with a man he only barely knows (but who had apparently wanted to ask him out before his untimely demise). He has every reason to be nervous. But the worst has already happened, hadn't it? He'd died. It isn't like he could die again.

He matches Altair's smirk with a grin of his own.

"No."

**Author's Note:**

> Also, many thanks to my siblings who helped me come up with some of the pamphlet titles, and, yes, planarity is actually a word. It means "of, relating to, or situated in a plane". Interplanarity is totally made up though.


End file.
